


Big Daddy Hunter

by BadlyWrittenNewcastleFanfiction



Category: Newcastle Drag Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23769367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadlyWrittenNewcastleFanfiction/pseuds/BadlyWrittenNewcastleFanfiction
Summary: Tragidy is THE Daddy hunter...and she's got the biggest Daddy around.
Relationships: Pebble/jazzmin dick/faux king dick, Tragidy/Plop
Kudos: 1





	Big Daddy Hunter

Despite the general public consensus, Tragidy isn’t ‘ _A_ Daddy Hunter’.

No. That’s ridiculous.

Tragidy is ‘ _The_ Daddy Hunter’.

And she prefers to keep the scene informed of this fact, by picking and choosing different ‘daddies’ on a regular basis. She was never at a shortage of willing participants, and never once had she felt any desire to keep someone around after she had used them up. One therapist had called this “a promiscuity fuelled by deep rooted issues with one’s biological paternal influence and lack of self control and esteem”. To which Tragidy had replied, “Yeah, but it’s fun.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” The therapist had asked.

Tragidy had shrugged. “So far, it’s working for me.”

“Being alone is ‘working for you’?”

“Yeah.” She had said. “Getting too attached isn’t fun.”

“You can’t keep this up forever, Tragidy.”

“Well, so far it’s fun.”

That’s how Tragidy liked her life. Fun was, well, fun. Staying out all night and sleeping until the following evening, drinking more than she could handle and not spending a penny, having a rotating bedroom door and never remembering anyone’s names. Life was good. Life was _fun._

That was until Tragidy fell in love and it all went to shit.

“I’m in love.” Tragidy sighed, dejected, lying on her bed, head hanging off the edge. She frowned at Cara when she failed to acknowledge her. “I _said_ I’m in love!”

Glancing over, Cara rolled her eyes. “I heard you.”

“I need help! Usually I’m all for ‘one in one out’.” Tragidy paused. “Sometimes two in two out…and that one time after pride twenty-seventeen when it was like eleven in, six out, but we don’t talk about that anymore.” She pouted. “This is different. I’ve never had a daddy that I actually wanted to be with.”

“Wow.” Cara said. “He must be rich.”

Shaking her head, Tragidy looked at Cara. “Cara,” she said solemnly, “my Daddy is poor.”

“Shit.” Cara said.

“Yeah. I told you this was serious. So what do I do, Cara?” Tragidy asked, sitting up. “I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what to do. I just feel so hopeless.”

Cara shrugged. “Being in love shouldn’t make you feel hopeless, Tragidy. Baron makes me feel like I can do anything.” She said, a dazed smile crossing her face. “Baron makes me feel like Shania Twain.”

“What?”

“Man, I feel like a woman.”

Tragidy huffed. “Listen, Cara, if you’re not going to give me any proper advice, I think I’ll just put on my Pikachu onesie and go and look elsewhere.”

“Please do.” Cara said. “Because frankly Tragidy, I can’t be fucking arsed…and that’s not even _your_ onesie.”

….

“The thing is, Pebble,” Tragidy said, “I just don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt this way before.”

With a massive green dildo in her arse, and Dick’s dick in her mouth, Pebble didn’t reply. Instead she simply gave an understanding few blinks, as a tear dripped down her cheek- or perhaps some of the drying spunk of her forehead had flaked into her eye, and she was quietly going blind. Who knew?

Jazzmin gave Tragidy a sympathetic shrug, and thrust the jolly green giant into Pebble once more, causing a pleasured cry that made Tragidy’s ears ring. “You’re blue.”

“Actually, right now, I’m Tragidy.”

“No, I mean you’re sad.”

“Oh, right. I always liked having my daddies with no feelings attached,” Tragidy said, “only a PayPal password saved into my notes app. But I look at you three,” she smiled as Pebble, dick in mouth, began two-handedly pulling anal beads from Dick’s arse like she was a magician pulling a string of hankies from her sleeve, “and I just think, wow, maybe I do want the love that you all have.”

She looked over at Dick. “You’re in love…apparently. Any advice from you?”

Dick groaned as another bead popped out. “A cock in the bum is worth two in the fridge.”

Tragidy sighed. “Sage words, Dick. But that doesn’t really help me. I suppose I’ll go and look for some advice elsewhere.”

…

Central was barren. Not _LaVey,_ just quiet.

Tragidy waved over at Risqué as she entered. “Can you help me? I’m in love and I don’t know what to do.”

“No.” Risque said. “I can’t help you. I don’t care, Tragidy. I’m busy listening to _Sade_ and trying to work out the easiest way to surgically attach these devil horns to my head.”

“Okay.” She turned towards the DJ box. “Mutha, can you help me? I’m in love and-,”

“No.” Mutha cut her off. “I also don’t care, and I have my own love life problems which may or may not be explored via the medium of fanfiction in the coming weeks. Now fuck off.”

“Okay.” Tragidy said. She sat down on a chair in the corner. “Why won’t anyone help me?”

“I’ll help you.” Came a voice behind her.

She gasped.

A tall shadow loomed over Tragidy, and butterflies began to form in her stomach. Her palms started to sweat. Her bum hole clenched, unlike PlastiQ’s in A&E. The person put their hands on her shoulders, running their fingers across her chest to rest on her breasts. They leaned down, breath tickling her ear, and bit once into her ear lobe.

“I’ll help you.” The person said.

Tragidy’s breath hitched. “Oh, _Daddy_.”

“Please,” said the person, stepping around to stand in front of her, “you know what I like. Call me _Big. Daddy. Plop.”_

“Yes, Big Daddy Plop.”

“Good girl.” Plop smiled. “Now I been hearing that you’re in love, see? Going around asking the scene what to do about it?”

“Well,” She blushed, “maybe.”

“Perhaps I can help.” Plop said. “I’m actually quite good at advice. There was this one time back in Swansea, probably about two thousand and four? Or was it two thousand and five? Maybe it was two thousand and five. And I was on my way home, walking, because the bus service at the time was shocking, and I wasn’t going to pay one-sixty for a fare when I could walk, and at the time you could get five tabs off the lad on the corner for two quid. So long story short-,”

“Big Daddy Plop?” Tragidy interrupted.

“Yeah?”

“I’m in love with _you_.”

“Oh.” Plop said. “Tidy.”

“Right, and well, I just don’t really know what to do. I know you don’t have a penny to your name. But I don’t care, Big Daddy Plop! I love you!”

Plop frowned. “I have money. There’s three pound sixty five somewhere in these dreads if you look hard enough.” Plop shook their head. “Think there’s a hamster in here, too. I likes to call him ‘Big Al’.”

“I love you Big Daddy Plop.” Tragidy exclaimed. “I love you, Daddy!”

“All right, love, calm your tits, eh?” Plop said, looking around. “Let’s go home. I got to stop by the Yard on the way though and shout some abuse at Kitana. I like the starring in the statuses, see.”

“Ooh, can I help?”

“Course, but we’ll probably have to wait in a queue for a bit for our turn. I think PlastiQ might be there for a while. And when we get home I’ll let you suck me off while I play Mortal Kombat.”

Tragidy gazed up at Plop in wonder. “I’d love that.”

Plop began urging Tragidy out of her seat and towards the door. “I wouldn’t have minded some head while I play Kingdom Hearts, but the disc’s been playing up. Tampin, I am.”

…

At Plop’s, Tragidy stripped down out of the Pikachu onesie and into her negligee, as Plop booted up the PS4.

“The thing about Mortal Kombat versus Tekken, is that there really is no comparison beyond the obvious. Most people have a favourite, and that’s fine, what it really comes down to is the character you pick, for me-,”

“Big Daddy Plop?”

“What?”

“I’m just going to… _freshen up_ , in the bathroom. Is that okay?”

Plop nodded. “Course, love. Just don’t get shit in the showerhead. It’s a fucking nightmare to get out.”

And so, when Tragidy returned, in the romantic light of the PlayStation, she gave Plop head. And then Plop fucked her in the kitchen, and told her the story about the time the rice was moving in the slow cooker, but it was actually maggots. And then, in the most romantic way possible, Plop came, pulling out and painting Tragidy’s back with his baby batter, with a cry of:

“YEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH”

“Oh, Big Daddy Plop.” Tragidy said as jizz dripped down her back. “Will you be my Big Daddy for ever and ever?”

“S’pose.” Plop replied.

And long story short, they lived happily ever after. Or something.


End file.
